


A Matter of Expectation Versus Reality

by Dana



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:36:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I'm sorry to disappoint you and your libido, <i>Guv</i>, but I am no longer in the mood.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Expectation Versus Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Some time after 1x04, Sam and Gene end up discussing what I like to call 'The Joni Incident'.
> 
> No rape/non-con happens in this story but there _is_ discussion of canon rape.

Gene – who'd straddled Sam's long legs, bent his head to thoroughly investigate the curve of Sam's throat, pressed his tongue against Sam's pulse point just to hear him gasp – had managed to grip Sam's wrists in a hold that he felt was just bloody right. So caught up in sweat-damp skin as he'd been, it's something of a miracle he noticed it at all, but Sam's response to his suggestion had been just that immediate. Not the sort of thing he could miss.

He looks up, drags himself away from that satisfying stretch of skin, feels Sam gone tense beneath him, hears that sharp intake of his breath and sees the look of stony impasse that's settled upon his face. Not only was the reaction immediate, Gene has enough brain in his head to see it's not good.

'What?' he snaps, gruffly, pulling back, gazing down at Sam's flushed cheeks and his sweat-damp hair – he's too thoroughly appealing, even when he's being annoying, or those times when he's annoyed. 'Always took you for the kinky sort, don't tell me you don't like – '

Sam grimaces, slips one hand free and slams the flat of his palm against Gene's shoulder, hard enough to sting. 'Get off me.'

Gene purses his lips, almost laughs, quirks an eyebrow at him instead. Has to shift an arm to support himself, otherwise he'd end up squashing his DI (the currently obnoxious one, who less than one minute ago had been stretched out so nicely beneath him). 'Oh bloody hell, Sam – '

Sam exhales slowly – a measured response. His eyes are dark and guarded, a slow sort of simmering fury that reminds Gene of Sam's more intense edges, the ones he doesn't always see. 'I'm sorry to disappoint you and your libido, _Guv_ , but I am no longer in the mood.'

Gene rolls his eyes, almost snorts on a laugh, but he scoots off Sam instead, rolling onto his side. He ends up seated on the side of his bed, looking backwards as Sam picks himself up – what a waste, really, all of that perfectly naked Sam – and then he's going about the room, picking his clothing up from the various places it had ended up being chucked. His pants were hanging on the door knob. His trousers were on the far side of the room.

It had been a long, bad day, and it was amazing they'd even made it to the bed. Well, Sam had insisted, and he did like getting his own way. Anyhow, Gene knew that Sam had a point. Up against a wall, maybe in Lost and Found and them both hoping that someone didn't end up walking in, or shared hand jobs in the Cortina, those were very nice things. But it had been too long since they'd made proper use of a bed. Sam's, after all, was some sort of torture device, not something you had sex in, let alone any sort of comfortable sleep.

Still, Gene doesn't know what he possibly could have said to make Sam settle into this sort of mood, other than it just being Sam being Sam, still not happy unless he's making Gene's life complicated. As if Sam might ever change.

So Gene turns and crosses his arms, watching as Sam begins to dress, currently pulling up his trousers. 'Well then, since you're not going to enlighten me on your own, Gladys, I suppose I need to be the big man here and make the first move – tell me what's wrong.'

Sam stops, jerks his head upright if only to scowl in Gene's direction. He zips up his trousers and goes to fasten his belt, tightening it – never had made it out the belt loops, after all, them having been in a hurry and all. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

Gene rolls his eyes. Unfolding his arms, he rises to his feet, grabbing his dressing gown and pulling it on. If he's going to end up fighting, he'd really rather not do it starkers. Sam's mood isn't the only one that's been ruined, after all, and maybe Sam's being as talkative as a closed door at this point, but Gene has ways of making him open up. Maybe the only thing they'll manage to do tonight is sleep, but that's only going to happen if he can convince Sam to get back into his bed.

He scowls, and does his best to stare Sam down. 'You? Not wanting to talk? Now you sound right insane, you daft sod. Talking too much, that's all you ever do.'

Sam doesn't look up at him, turns away instead, working at the buttons of his shirt, simmering in his silence. Gene takes several more steps towards him, and stretches one arm out towards Sam, letting the other fall to his side. He lets that one hand come down upon Sam's shoulder, would have slipped the other round his waist. Tug him close. Try and say something in touch that he doesn't know how to say with words. Things like 'I'm sorry' were hard enough, after all. Let alone the sort of thing you said, heart to heart.

Feelings. Oh, he didn't need them, but maybe he did need Sam.

And then, as though the situation wasn't bad enough already, he feels Sam flinch beneath his hand, gone rigid, and Gene wants nothing more than to snatch his hand back, because he feels like he's been burned.

'It's nothing,' Sam says flatly, stepping away, avoiding Gene's touch. Startled, angry, and somewhat confused – maybe he hadn't expected that reaction either. Gene certainly hadn't, not at all. 'If you want to talk about procedural discrepancies then I promise you, I'm all ears. Richard Blake was a right bastard, and even I think you should have slammed him against a few more walls. But if you want to talk about something other than _that_? Then you're sadly out of luck.'

'Thought you liked it.' Gene shrugs, folds his arms once more, because he's at a loss for words here, not sure what foot needs to get put forth first, and Sam's turned his world upside down with all the things he'll not say.

He'd only mentioned the handcuffs because of that long ago morning he'd walked in on Sam, found him cuffed to his bed, found that he appreciated that look on him and likely wouldn't mind seeing more. Just the naked more than anything else, and he'd spent a month being as obtuse towards Sam as he could, just trying to irritate him into Gene's bed. Somehow, it worked – Sam was such a picky pain, so somehow it was fitting that being one right back at him had turned into some sort of distorted foreplay. Of course, just thinking on it now – because of that look on Sam's face, the disgust in his eyes – it makes Gene feel dirty. He doesn't like that at all.

Of course, now Sam's gaping at him. 'Liked it? _Liked it_? Where I come from...' Sam hesitates, and Gene watches as his features soften, as something that might be pain flits in the depths of Sam's dark eyes. Then he almost finds himself distracted with the bob of Sam's Adam's apple as he swallows. Just almost.

'Where? Hyde?' It might have been a sneer, only it's not. It's a simple enough thing, and it makes Gene tired. Always does go back to Hyde, after all.

'Yes,' Sam's expression shifts, goes a bit stormy, his eyes flashing and Gene's sure this is where the shouting's going to start. 'Bloody _Hyde_. I thought Joni's life was in danger, and I wanted to keep her safe. It isn't like I brought her back to my flat because I was looking for an easy shag.' He hadn't quite finished buttoning up his shirt, kept getting the order of it wrong, and at this point Sam just stops, groaning in frustration. Gone still, wraps his arms around himself, hugging himself tightly and shaking his head. He looks hopeless, distraught, frustrated and properly angry, all at the same time.

'Certainly didn't want to be drugged and then cuffed to my bed and – ' He stops once more, but the lines of his face stay hard. No shouting, then – and somehow, that fact makes it seem worse. 'Gene, where I come from, what happened to me would be considered rape.'

At that, Gene does actually snort. 'Oh come off it, Tyler, that sort of thing doesn't happen to blokes.'

Now Sam doesn't just look angry, he's disappointed, too. He unfolds his arms, takes a step backwards, and he must not be able to figure out what he means to say, given the way he keeps opening and closing his mouth. He exhales loudly instead, and grimaces. 'Don't even know what to say to you, Guv. But of course you'd say that. Hell, given how you like to bend me over, I don't even see why we're having any sort of disagreement. Don't even think you consider me a proper man.'

That digs in, and Gene snaps at him, shouting in Sam's face. 'Of course you're a man, you annoying pain in the arse! I don't understand you half the time, and maybe I do like buggering you silly, but it's not like you ever complain! But you're a man! And a good copper!'

Sam laughs, a sharp burst of sound, throwing his arms up as he does. 'A good copper! Of course, isn't it always about work. Anyhow, you don't have to worry anymore because I'm not complaining now, Gene! I'm leaving!'

Gene stops short, feels the rage slip out of him, replaced with something cold, something that terrifies him, something that he can't put to words. 'Leaving? What? Going back to Hyde?'

Sam grimaces once more, but then he almost grins. 'Right. Going back to Hyde. See you never, Guv.'

That startles Gene, wants to make him panic, wants to make him reach out and grab and never let go. What he wants to say is: _You don't just storm into my life and dig yourself into my heart, you don't do that and then threaten to go away._ It's a bloody insistent urge, feeling those words trying to tear their way out of him, knowing they'd make a mess of him in the process. What ends up happening is he keeps his bloody mouth shut, because if he doesn't he'll say too much – and at this point, he'd rather not say anything at all.

Sam turns away from him, quickly, and Gene's arm snaps out of its own volition, grabbing at Sam's elbow, fingers digging in tight, and then he's pulling Sam back. Sam stumbles but doesn't fall, and he doesn't look back at Gene, gone deathly quiet, trembling. And at least this time, he doesn't flinch or cringe or do anything else that would only end up making Gene feel even more sick.

'Sam.'

Sam lets out a breath, low and measured, shaking his head as he does. He turns his head, so hesitant Gene wonders if he meant to at all, his brow drawn together, lips pursed in thought. He looks so small, his eyes so dark, and then he's shaking his head once more.

'I don't care what you think about what happened, Gene. When you force sex on a person – when you take away a person's ability to give proper consent – you call that _rape_. That's one thing you need to get that through that bloody thick skull of yours.' He doesn't sound angry – well, he does. But he also sounds tired, and very much resigned. Like there's no point behind the words he's saying, not in the slightest. 'It's not something to be mocked. No means no, and if you don't even have a chance to say even _that_ , then – '

Gene doesn't know what to do, hardly knows where to start. 'Sam – '

Sam huffs, a sharp, angry laugh. ' _What_?'

Gene sighs. Feels the cool cloth of Sam's shirt, digs his fingers into it, doesn't want to let go. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That's what he's shouting at himself, that's all he hears inside his head. But what he says is: 'Stay.'

Close enough, that.

Must have been the tone of his voice, but Sam's shoulders falter, his entire being seems to crumple. Keeps his back to Gene as he says, 'Gene, I need – ', only then he's stopping short. One moment after, he's turning himself round and looking, if Gene had to be spare in his description, utterly miserable.

Gene just sighs, still not letting go. 'Look, please. I'm sorry. You didn't ask for it and I'm sorry, and I won't ever mention it again.' There. He said it. Said something. Maybe it wasn't everything he could have said, but all it needed to be a good enough start.

And it's true. He means it, with each breath.

Sam sighs, looks down at where Gene is holding onto him, gives such a small laugh that Gene wonders if he'd made any sound at all. After one moment, he lifts one hand, and settles it on Gene's. It feels good, that Sam trusts him. Wants to trust him, at least. 'You know...' His voice trails off, and he rubs at his forehead with the hand that he can. 'You know, this is the most I've talked about it since it happened. Feels good to get it out.'

'Shouldn't have mentioned it.'

'Oh Gene, stop feeling bad. You didn't know.'

It's funny, watching the shift – of the force of Sam's anger, startling as it is. You never expect him to snap and just start shouting, but once he does, it's always too effective. But now, Sam's turning back on himself, taking in instead of lashing out. Bloody hell, but does Sam know how to compromise when it comes to making a thing work. Maybe he thinks he has a good thing. But... no matter how much Gene might go on about his own magnificence, he knows he's better off for having Sam in his life.

Oh Christ, what a changing point in their relationship. Talking a thing out instead of resorting to shouting, to fists.

Gene sighs. 'You're doing that thing again.'

Sam purses his lips slightly, looking confused. 'What thing?'

Gene huffs, exhaling slowly. 'You're being too damned understanding. It's annoying.'

Sam snorts, then rolls his eyes. 'So I'm annoying when we're butting heads, but I'm also annoying when I'm feeling agreeable. Just can't win with you, can I?'

'S'not what I meant.'

Then Sam's grinning at him, just slightly, small and sharp. 'Look, I'm sorry if it's an issue. I'm sure if anyone could get me to like that, it'd be you. Consensual bondage is an entirely different thing.'

At that, Gene rolls his eyes. 'Right. You say that now...'

Sam's eyes goes wide, and then he's nodding. 'No. I mean it, I really do. Just took me off guard. Wasn't expecting it to happen, that's all, and then I didn't know what to do with myself afterwards.'

He drops his hand to the side, and Gene lets go of Sam's shirt, not sure what to do with himself now that he has. With a bit of a confused sigh, he turns back to the bed, sits down on the edge of it instead, presses one hand against his forehead, closing his eyes. Tired, properly worn out. Doesn't even think he could eat if he tried, like they'd planned to afterwards, let alone get it back up. All Gene wants to do, suddenly, is sleep.

'Gene.'

Gene lowers his hand tilts his head back, and Sam quirks an eyebrow at him before he settles down on Gene's lap, all arms and legs and heat, and Sam wraps his arms round Gene's waist before leaning his cheek against Gene's shoulder. 'I'm sorry.'

Feels a bit dazed, really, but not so badly that he doesn't wind his arms about Sam, holding him close. 'Eh, now don't start that. Nothing to apologise for. Maybe one day you might want to give it a try, and we can go from there.'

'Right. Of course.' Sam sighs softly, turns his head and Gene feels the tickle of his breath warm against his skin. How Sam keeps trying to curl in on him, around him. 'How does a bit of a kip sound?'

'Bloody brilliant suggestion, Sam – knew where was a reason I kept you around,' Gene replies, turning and pressing a kiss to Sam's temple. 'Like doing all sorts of things in bed with you, mind. Doesn't just have to include your very sexy arse.'

Sam snorts a little, but his eyes seem brighter. 'Thanks.'

'It isn't – I mean, it's not just the sex, Sam. I mean, maybe that's what it was at the start, but it's not anymore. And if you end up crying on me, you great soppy girl, then you're sleeping on the sofa. Alone.'

Sam smiles – one of those burningly bright smiles of his that makes Gene forget how to think. 'Of course. Wouldn't even think of It, Guv.'

'Good,' Gene huffs. Then, he all but drags Sam backwards, manages to tuck them both beneath the covers, and Sam – still mostly clothed – pulls back and then retucks his arms about Gene, this time resting his head against Gene's chest. Gene exhales slowly, listens to the sound of Sam's breathing, feels him relax and then slip down into a properly deep sleep.

He doesn't follow him, though, dragging his fingers through Sam's short hair instead. He's a very complicated man, his Sam, but Gene knows he wouldn't have him any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel inspired by written by [Sky](http://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky) can be found here: [Coming to Terms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2480729).


End file.
